


First Time For Everything

by 994527



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/994527/pseuds/994527
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jorge makes a bet with Cal that sends him off in a direction he never expected...</p><p>Written for Motorskink.</p><p>(with less angst, more laughs)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Has Backfired

“Soo…sleep well?”

Thursday press conferences were never fun, but sitting in a room being passively-aggressively taken the piss out of by a Spaniard was really taking it too far. _Where is everyone else?_ Cal glared across at Jorge and shook his head angrily. “No, thank you. I did not.”

Jorge smirked and shot him a half smile. “Why?”

“You know fucking well why.”

Jorge innocently raised his eyebrows and shrugged at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cal folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “If you try anything like that again, I’ll fucking…fucking…” He trailed off, exasperated and unsure as to what would bother the 4 time champion the most. “I’ll fucking…flush your ipod.”

Jorge laughed at him. “Wow. I’d never recover.”

Cal glared again. “Fuck you fuck you fuck you.”

“Feel free.” Jorge winked at him and Cal went red. 

“Urgh.”

Jorge laughed and took a sip of water. “Ok, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend, if…” He pursed his lips and let the ideas run through his head. “Hmm…” He locked his eyes onto Cal’s uncharacteristically nervous ones and smiled a deliciously wicked smile. “The next person that comes into the room…you kiss them. And you can’t say anything before you do.”

Cal’s eyes bulged and he almost spat water on Jorge’s lap. “What?! That’s way too harsh.”

The Spartan smiled and adjusted his cap. “Do you want to go through last night again, Calvin?”

Cal glared again, but with less venom and more pure unadulterated fear. “No. No I don’t.”

“So..?”

He gulped and nodded. “Ok. Fine. Fine.” He gulped and nodded again. “Fine. Fine.”

“So, fine?” 

Cal nodded, Jorge laughed at him and watched the Brit’s face fall as the door opened and someone appeared. The Spaniard turned to see who was the lucky victim and immediately burst into a fit of feminine gigglyness.

Because it wasn’t another rider. It was Matt Roberts.

*

Cal’s face was a mixture of relief and absolute horror. Jorge carefully tried to figure out the fusion, and which was winning. He watched the Tech3 rider sat frozen and elbowed him. “Go.”

Cal looked at him, horror seemingly now winning, and shook his head. Jorge nodded and tilted his phone screen at him, showing him a picture of the night before’s adventures. It did the trick. “Er…Matt?”

The presenter looked up from his phone. “Hmm?”

“I, er… I need to show you something.”

Matt looked at Jorge, who shrugged at him and did a good impression of having no idea what was going on. “Right…?” 

Cal’s vision seemed to tunnel into Matt’s face as the presenter walked towards him. _I have to kiss him. I have to put my lips on his lips. In a kiss. I have to kiss this man with whom I have flirted horrificly for quite some time._ The moment had arrived. Cal stood up, Jorge covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk, and Matt stood there looking very confused. “Well?”

Cal coughed and lunged forward, grabbing Matt’s collar and planting his lips roughly on the presenter’s. There was a moment where the room froze. Jorge studied the scene and felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck and his realized that no, it wasn’t over yet, and yes, there was movement. There was tongue action. There were hands almost coming into play. And still it wasn’t over.

Suddenly a Joker laugh erupted over the other side of the room as the door banged open and Marc and Valentino appeared. The cackle was soon replaced with deathly silence as they stopped; Valentino half-hugging the young Honda rider as they tangled themselves up trying to come to a halt.

The slightly wet sounds of the kiss sounded louder than an M1.

Suddenly the two Brits broke apart and stood staring at each other, red faced and panting. A cough from the reigning world champion brought them back to Earth and they turned, slowly, horrified, realizing where they were again, and took in the three faces staring back at them. Valentino looked at Cal. Cal looked at Matt. Matt looked at Jorge, who was looking at Marc, who was looking back at him. The two Spaniards shared a few words in their native language that made another cacophony of Joker laughter erupt from the younger, before they both looked somewhat guiltily at Matt as they realized he spoke fluent Spanish. He went redder; a lot redder.

Valentino untangled himself from the new kid and held up his hands. “Ok… explain.”

Jorge said something again in Spanish and watched as Marc’s face absolutely erupted. Matt quickly manhandled Cal into turning round.   
The Coventry rider would need a better explanation than ‘it was a bet’ to clarify what had happened to his crotch.

*

The room filled with people fairly quickly, and the change in atmosphere and fading memory of the kiss was evidently enough to allow Cal to take his seat again next to Jorge without showing the room the results of the hotness that had just occurred. Matt faded into the crowd of journalists and patted his hair back into some sort of order; evidently Cal’s hands had made it that far. Marc and Valentino took their seats, Dani finally appeared, and the room settled into its natural rhythm. Except that the rider on the end seemed to have a slightly swollen lip, and couldn’t concentrate on a single answer. Eventually, Jorge couldn’t resist rubbing it in when someone asked Cal how he was coping with the heat. The Yamaha Factory Racing rider leant forward slightly to his mic and looked sideways at the Brit.

“I think Cal has found it hotter than he expected. He seems surprised by the intensity.”

Cal glared at him and went bright red; Marc and Valentino sniggered and looked at each other; Dani vacantly stared down the line wondering what he was missing.

“Is that right, Cal?”

Jorge watched him swallow and look back at the journalist, suddenly almost purposeful. “Yes. Surprised. But… I like it.” He carefully put his water down and took a deep breath. 

“To be honest I’d like more like this.”

Jorge spluttered into his water and stole a glance sideways the opposite way at his teammate, whose mouth was fixed in a little ‘o’ shape. Widened Mallorcan eyes met widened Italian ones, before Jorge looked into the crowd, searching for Matt. He found him quickly, because his face was the only magenta one. His eyes were fixed on Cal’s; and as Jorge looked between them he thought he saw the start of an arrogant smirk start to appear on the Tech3 rider’s face. 

_This has backfired._

He saw Matt start to smile.

_This has backfired quite badly._


	2. I'm Taking Matters Into My Own Hands

“Helloo..” Jorge rolled his eyes as he was met with even more random noise from Cal’s pocket dialing phone. “FUCKING HELL, HELLO.”

The shouting, other than leading several members of the public in VR46 attire to frown at him, evidently also did the trick. Jorge heard a muffled _shit that’s my phone, where is it? – I don’t know – well look in the dashboard – no it’s here, it’s in your pocket - can you grab it? – thought you’d never ask. –shhhh!!!_ Finally Cal’s voice actually talked into the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello.” Jorge harrumphed and started to pace. “You’ve called me from your jeans again.”

“Fuck.” Cal faded again slightly as he relayed the information - _my phone’s dialed him again from my pocket._ “Sorry!”

The younger man took a breath and tried not to get too exasperated. “Ok, don’t worry. Where are you?”

“Don’t know, hang on.”

The conversation became distanced again. 

_Where are we? – Don’t know. – Well look at the fucking map! – Don’t shout at me, Calvin. – Ok, ok, sorry. Get the map out. – I can’t hold the phone and look for the map. – Fine, just put the phone down a sec and look then – Ok, fine. Ok, here’s the map…so we are…well, we landed here. And we got on that road…so we’re here. – Right ok._ “We’re about 45 minutes away, I think. We’ve been driving from Tarragona for about an hour or something.”

Jorge nodded before realizing they couldn’t see him. “Right. Ok. We?”

He heard an intake of breath and waited. “Yes. We. Me and Matt.”

“Ah. Fly together?”  
“Yes.”  
“Staying together?”  
“Yes.”  
“Eating together?”  
“Yes.”  
“Sleeping together?”

There was a loud crack as the phone was evidently dropped and Jorge smirked. A few fumbled seconds of noise filled the void before a voice returned to the phone. Not the same one. “That’s none of your business.”

Jorge laughed to himself and shook his head. “Hello Matthew. Do I not get to know things because I made it all possible?”

“No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. To the original question.” The Mallorcan ended the call before Matt could get any more flustered, and dived back into his motorhome. _Not smooth. Now, 45 minutes with nothing to do._ His mind flashed through ideas. He didn’t know whether it would be funnier to be cruel or kind. Eventually, he settled on kind. He pulled out his phone again and dialed the person who he thought would be able to help. 

“Hello?” The voice sounded puzzled, unsure of who was calling.

“Oh, fine. You don’t have my number saved anymore then?” Jorge grinned to himself and flopped down onto a sofa. 

“Oh! No! Sorry. I got a new phone…”

“I’ve heard that before.” He waited for the laugh to play out and cleared his throat. “Ok…as usual…I need a favour.”

He could hear Azi sigh good naturedly. “Right. Ok…what is it?”

“I need a Barry White CD, a bunch of roses and some women’s underwear.”

*

_The mood is set, huh huh. You already know what’s next, huh huh, huh huh._

That song had been going round and round in Jorge’s head whilst he’d been ‘dressing the room’. _I seriously need to get laid. Maybe that’s why I’m so obsessed with this._ There were now flower petals spread over the bed, and the bunch of roses took center stage. The Barry White was in and ready to go, and the pair of very lacy – and racy – knickers were on the bed next to a note that said ‘if you’re feeling adventurous’.

The Spartan smiled and nodded to himself. _Good job._

*

Azi knew, by now, not to ask too many questions when the reigning world champion called her. He didn’t do it very often, but it was often enough for her to have learnt the protocol. Truth be told, although she rolled her eyes and played exasperated, she liked it. She liked it that he obviously trusted her, and in return, she’d never said no. There were some she’d failed at – like the request for a domesticated dark-coloured monkey at 2 in the morning in Tokyo – but she always tried. She was glad of the trust, and it was reciprocated. She knew that, if something genuinely bad happened, she could call him. She knew that because she’d done it before. He’d picked up the phone at 4 o clock in the morning, very sleepy – and the first thing he’d said was, ‘What’s happened? Are you ok?’ For her, that was the measure of him. He’d even driven to pick her – and Matt – up from the confusing and sketchy feeling part of Barcelona where they’d got lost. It wasn’t a race weekend, they had no business with each other, but he’d got out of bed anyway. Not many world champions would do that. Matt’s face had been a picture.

_Who are you calling?_

_Jorge._

_What? As in Jorge Lorenzo?_

She’d nodded and explained their problem down the phone as Jorge answered, watching Matt’s surprised expression go from unbelieving to grateful as he realized that yes, he’d picked up, and yes, he’d said he’d help.

_He says he’s on his way._

Matt had stared at her, eyes twinkling. _Does he? Is there something I should know about here?_

She’d smirked and shook her head. _No…_

Being honest with herself, she knew she didn’t answer because it was a rider, she answered because she liked him as a person, and she respected him. And she always got a giggle from whatever the request was. _My underwear though…that’s a little strange. I mean, I can’t ask someone else for their underwear, can I? And there’s nowhere selling anything like…that. So it will have to be mine. Which is weird. And it’s weird because it’s probably a prank on Cal._ She’d already said yes though, so no further thought could make it better. She’d found the Barry White and roses at a shop in Alcañiz – luckily she’d been there anyway – and made it back to the track with 20 minutes to spare.

She knocked on Jorge’s door and waited. He was one of the riders who would get up and answer the door like it was his house, rather than yell from inside. Valentino did the same.

The door opened and Jorge grinned at the stash. “Hello! Come in.”

Azi followed him inside and deposited the stuff on the table. Jorge’s eyes wandered over it and he picked up the underwear, hooking it on his little finger and lifting it into the air to inspect it. “Very nice.”

Azi went red and Jorge’s eyes widened. “Oooh!! Is this yours?” He smirked and winked at her before pretending to look her up and down and repeating, “very nice.”

She fake glared at him and pulled it off his finger. “This is a prank on Cal, right?”

Jorge nodded and grinned. “Yes. And I’d better get started.” He gathered everything together and leaned down to peck her on the cheek as he made his way out the door. “Thank you!”

“Stop!” Azi ran after him and pulled the knickers free. “You can’t walk round the paddock like that.”

Jorge shrugged but she shook her head. “Seriously.” She tucked the knickers fully into the pocket of his jeans so they were hidden and spanked him lightly on the back pocket. 

“Ok, go.”

He grinned and disappeared though the door. “Make yourself a drink if you want. Back sooooon…”

She sat down on the sofa and looked around. _Well. This is new._

*

Cal opened the door and went in first, Matt right behind him. Then he stopped, and the Huddersfield native walked straight into him. Before Matt could complain, he realized why. 

“Woah.”

Cal rolled his eyes and put his bag down, realizing with an increasing sense of dread who was responsible. “Fucking Mallorcan.”

Matt pushed him forward slightly to get a better view and wandered over to the bed. He saw the note and the knickers and went a dark shade of red. Cal picked them up and stretched them over his crotch for size. “They might fit…?”

Matt stared at him, wide eyed. “What?!”

Cal grinned and pulled the other man towards him. “I’m joking.” He planted a kiss on nervous lips and then pulled away. “Christ, we’ve not even…”

Matt gulped and nodded. “Right.” _Does that mean we intend to?_

“Hot?”

Matt whirled round in panic. “What?!”

Cal was holding up a mug. “Hot DRINK?”

Matt sighed in relief and Cal hung his head, putting the mug down on the side. “Ok, we need to talk about this.”

He turned round to look at Matt’s face and saw the fear he’d expected. “Why are you so terrified, ey?”

Matt shrugged and looked at him hopefully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’m scared… of how I feel…” Cal almost wanted to smack himself for being so…clichédly pathetic. “But I’m not really that scared of anything else. It’s simple for me. I like you. Lots. You have a sexy arse.”

Matt’s lips had started to curl upwards into a smile, although he was still blushing profusely. “Right…”

“Right? Come on…share…”

Matt cleared his throat nervously and looked around, evidently trying to avoid Cal’s gaze. “Well.. I…What do you want me to say?”

“No, what do YOU want to say?”

Matt took a deep breath and messed with the collar of his shirt. He eventually just clenched his fists and let the words tumble out. “I never thought we’d be in this situation and I… I don’t know what I’m doing or how I deal with it at all and I still can’t believe this whole thing happened from a bet…and that it’s happening at all, still happening, and I feel like I’m going to wake up and find out it was a joke and awkwardly have to live the rest of my life really awkwardly.”

Cal’s expression was frozen and searching for sense in the tirade. “Whaaaaaaa…?”

“Basically, you’re EXTREMELY attractive; I’m bisexual. I like you. You’re funny. And nice. And…you have a good sense of humour…and…”

Cal smiled at the sense and took a step forward, lacing his hands through Matt’s, noticing the gesture lent the presenter some more confidence. “Go on…”

Matt grinned at him. “Just stop. You know. You already know.”

Cal nodded and felt the familiar stubble as he pressed his lips on Matt’s. _Yeah, I probably do._

*

Azi sat on the sofa for a full 2 minutes before she felt like she had the right to move. It was fairly messy; t shirts scattered around.. _that means he wanders around shirtless…_ She tried to shake that image from her mind. _No, no, no._

She walked into the bedroom. The bed wasn’t made, and there was a Jorge shaped indent on the left. _There’s something fascinating about being allowed into a private habitat, able to look around without being interrupted…_

She noticed the book next to the bed. Unofficial biography of Dani Pedrosa. That made her laugh. She walked over and picked it up, thinking he might be reasonably amused to come back and see her reading it. She walked back into the kitchen and put the kettle on. _So do I just wait? And then what? Are we just going to discuss my underwear and have a cup of tea? Or…_

She stared into the swirling coffee. _Well, not tea._ She sat back down on the sofa and opened the book, trying to get the angle right so he’d see the reasonably hilarious cover picture from the doorway. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Hello…” He banged back in through the door, smiled at her, then his eyes wandered down onto the book and he went bright red and giggled. “Ah. Er.. where did you find that?”

“I used the bathroom...”

He grinned sheepishly and held out a hand. “Let’s not mention this ever again.” She passed him the book and he threw it back through the open bedroom door onto the bed. 

“Soo…” He flopped down next to her on the sofa and unzipped his jacket. “Success. Thank you.”

She smiled sideways at him. “It was one of the easier requests.”

“Well it’s not every day you get to help two massively gay friends get it on.” He grinned sideways at her and then froze when he saw her expression of utter confusion. _Shit. Why did I say that?!_

“What?”

Jorge tried to figure out if there was any turning back. He decided no. “Ok…don’t lose your mind, but ..Cal and Matt..”

Azi’s eyes almost popped out. “WHAT?!”

Jorge nodded. “I made a bet with Cal to kiss the next person into the room. It was Matt. It started something…”

Azi was staring at him, mouth open. 

“Say something.”

She managed to move her lips slightly, although no sound came out.

“Azi. Azi.” Jorge waved his hand in front of her face and then poked her cheek. “Azi…”

She suddenly snapped back to reality and coughed. “Cal..and Matt.”

Jorge nodded and lazily shrugged himself out of his jacket, making his t shirt ride up, which Azi desperately wanted to say she hadn’t stared at. “Cal and Matt. Probably banging right now.” He grinned as he looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. “Thanks to you.”

She went red and stared straight ahead. “My underwear…”

Jorge nodded and held his hands up. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think they’ll use them…”

She rubbed her hands over her face. “STOP.” 

He looked at her cheekily and started to smile. “Make me.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head good naturedly. “You know, not too long ago people wouldn’t have been surprised to hear you and Cal. You shouldn’t flirt with everybody.”

He narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow, pouting slightly. “I don’t flirt with everybody.”

She nodded. “Er…yes, you do.”

He shifted back so he was looking straight ahead and frowned. “Really? Huh.” He ran a hand over his face where there was actually no stubble. “I flirt with nice people…” 

Azi leaned back and slid down into the sofa slightly. They were now pretty close together. “Right.”

He looked sideways at her. “So you’d rather I didn’t flirt with you?”

Azi blushed slightly and resolutely didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “You admit you flirt with me?”

Jorge smirked and nodded. “Yeah, ok. I flirt with you.” Silence descended on the room for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Do you want me to stop?”

Azi did look at him this time. But she didn’t answer.

“Ok, if you don’t answer, I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

Azi raised her eyebrows. _What on Earth does that mean?!_

Jorge started a countdown. “3… 2…” He wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glistening with that specifically Lorenzo mixture of kindheartedness, mischief and pure evil. His face was getting closer to hers. 

“One.”


	3. Roll Over, Please

Cal rubbed the towel violently over his wet hair. In only jeans, he could feel Matt’s eyes stalking him as he walked around and made a cup of tea. “Stop staring.” He chewed on some crackers he’d found in the cupboard and didn’t need to turn around to know what the other man’s face looked like. “I offered you the chance to join me in there...”

Matt stood up and walked over to him. “I think I regret that.” He grinned at the shock on Cal’s face and hooked an index finger into one of the loops on the waistband of the rider’s jeans, pulling him closer. “Maybe you’ll need another shower later, anyway…”

Cal raised his eyebrows at this new boldness and grinned and nodded, some crumbs finding their way to the floor as he wound his arms round the presenter’s waist. “Tonight then, we’re going to make use of the Barry White.”

“You’re so sexy when you spit at me.”

Cal tried to keep his mouth shut as he laughed. “Sorry.”

*

She knew it was a terrible idea in so many ways, but when you have a 4-time world champion undoing your jeans with his teeth, and displaying a shocking talent for it, things get a bit blurry. Once it was a matter of both only being half clothed, he picked her up and smiled into the kiss as her legs wrapped round his waist and arms round his neck.

“Careful…with…the…collarbone.” His sentence came out in parts as and when his mouth was free. 

She moved her mouth to place a gentle kiss over where it was still strapped. “I know.” 

When his eyes met hers again there was something slightly different in them; _surprise? Appreciation? Some strange sort of vindication?_

They made it to the bedroom and it obviously twinged as he lowered her onto the bed. She frowned faintly at him but found only a slight nod and a defiant expression in return. _It’s so fascinating. You can read it all in there instantly. That one look just said ‘yes, that hurt. Not too much. Yes I’m fine, and no, I’m not too fragile.’_ They lost eye contact in another flurry of activity and she realized that there was a further problem. She was sat on something. She tried to pull away and say something about it, but he chose that moment to run a fiendishly quick kiss down the side of her neck to her collarbone, and consequently only part of the sentence was audible.

“Dani…” 

Jorge froze and glared at her. 

“What?”

She smirked and shook her head, _really? You really think…that?_ She fished the offending biography from under where they were lying and held it up. Jorge’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he grabbed it and threw it back onto the cabinet where she’d found it earlier, evidently laughing at himself slightly. _Wow_. She looked at him questioningly. _That was an awful lot of relief in that expression…_

“Idiot.”

He shrugged almost imperceptibly, smiled and slipped a hand up the back of her shirt, undoing her bra. They locked eyes one more time as her hand stopped on the top button of his jeans.

_This is it…_

_And also, slightly…_

_Are you sure?_

*

Matt was bored. He was so bored, he’d had a pointless shower, rearranged the cups in the kitchen into colour groups, and read the various copies of MCN in Cal’s motorhome 3 or 4 times. Eventually, he’d got in the bed. _Try it out for size…_

He didn’t know why, maybe the shock was wearing off, but he was feeling calm about everything. He liked Cal, Cal liked him. But it would be news. It would be a shockwave.

_That’s assuming we go public. That’s assuming this is a thing. Is it a thing? Well, I’m terrifyingly close to the L-word._ Matt snuggled down into the duvet as he heard the door open.

“Hi honey, I’m home!”

The rider wandered through into the bedroom and laughed at the floating head just visible in the covers. “Comfy?”

Matt nodded and threw the duvet back and patted the other side of the bed. “Yes.”

Cal ripped off his t-shirt and deposited his jeans on the floor before crawling in next to the presenter. “I’ve been waiting for this all afternoon.”

He pressed his lips to Matt’s and quickly found himself pinned to the bed by a nodding and eager partner.

“Keen?”

A gasp escaped Matt’s mouth as he nodded and ran his fingers through Cal’s hair. “Shut up.”

Cal grinned through the kiss and ran a hand down Matt’s back and into his boxers, giving the left cheek a quick squeeze. Matt yelped slightly before he nipped Cal’s earlobe gently with his teeth and pulled away, smirking.

“Play nice.”

*

Matt looked over the pillow to the snoring Tech3 rider, gently got out of the bed and pulled on some trousers and a t shirt. It was Cal’s shirt, but it fit. He opened the door and stared outside. It was dark, the outlines of the other motorhomes around them just visible. 

_Ok, time’s up. Tomorrow, you’re going to tell him how you feel._

His phone started vibrating in his pocket and he pulled it out. ‘Azi’ flashed up on the screen. He pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

Nothing. He listened to the background noise. _Bloody hell. More pocket dialing._

_‘Want a drink?’_

That was Azi. There was no audible answer so Matt guessed whoever it was must have nodded.

_‘Let me go then.’_ There was rustling and Matt started to go red. _Oh dear…this could be embarrassing. ‘Let me go, come on. I’ll come back…’_

_‘Promise?’_

Matt didn’t think he recognized the voice; it was further away than Azi, more muffled. He tried saying ‘hello’ a few more times, but knew he couldn’t shout or he’d risk waking the entire paddock up.

_I could hang up…_

He was too curious.

_‘Thank you…’_ More rustling. _‘Now… come here.’_

Matt listened as Azi giggled and there was a sound that seemed like it was a kiss.

_‘Staying?’_

_‘Up to you.’_

_‘I want you to stay.’_

_‘Ok.’_

More rustling. Some moaning. Matt went redder.

_‘Really? Again?’_

_‘Oh yes.’_

_‘Ok but Dani’s staring at me. Move him.’_

Matt’s eyes widened and he strained to hear what on Earth that meant. He heard footsteps, followed by a bang, followed by a laugh.

_‘Ok he’s in the toilet now.’_

Azi laughed and the other person seemingly got back on what Matt guessed was a bed. A male giggle reached his ear as the phone was obviously uncovered; the voice became clear.

_‘Now, Miss…roll over please.’_

Matt almost choked on thin air as he realized who it was and desperately poked the end call button.

_What the fuck._


	4. Scott Redding, Pascucci and Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the collarbone wasn’t serious by Aragón, but I’m putting it as the round after Assen and deleting the Sachsenring crash from reality..

Cal rolled over and smiled. Into empty space. And then frowned. “Mbweb?” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Matt?”

Nothing.

He felt his bottom lip start to jut out and sat up in bed, patting his hair down as he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror opposite.

_Where is he?!_

*

Matt found his eyes drooping uncontrollably as he tried to force a smile onto his face. He was sat in some hospitality, didn’t really know which, and drinking coffee. He’d woken up earlier than Cal and decided to get some fresh air and attempt to unravel his emotions into a cohesive conversation he could then share with the Tech3 rider. So far he’d got… “Listen, mate…I love you.” The ‘mate’ intended to disarm the feminine charm of ‘I love you.’

He looked up as someone walked in, and caught sight of Marc VDS written on the wall.

_Ah. That makes…no sense._

The someone hit him on the shoulder and sat down opposite him. “Good morning.”

Matt inwardly groaned slightly. _Mr Redding_. For some reason, the kid really enjoyed taking the piss out of him. And he was talented. And quite hot. And tall. All very irritating.

“Enjoying your Pascucci?”

Matt glowered and nodded at the same time. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good good.” Scott stretched and Matt found himself unwittingly distracted by young (too young!) bare midriff.

“Soo…” Scott swung back on the chair. “Got a good show planned?”

Matt nodded and took another sip. “I think so.”

“Good good.”

Awkwardness descended for a few seconds.

“Is Azi interviewing me?”

The mention of her name hit Matt like a power surge. _Fuck! Azi! (Jorge did.) ARGH! No._ “Err..yeah. Think so. You’re on?”

Scott nodded at him like he was a complete moron. “Yeah…?”

“Right. Yeah, definitely Azi. I’m doing Cal.”

The choice of words was so unfortunate it almost didn’t register. When it did, he felt his face turn beetroot purple and jumped to his feet. _Oh god._ “Ok bye!”

He grabbed the coffee cup and legged it, leaving Scott staring after him, very confused.

*

Jorge rolled over and smiled. Into empty space. A twinge in his collarbone and a bite mark on his arm added to his frown. _Woah. We did things that will be hard to forget._

He listened for any sign she was still there. Nope.

_Shit._

*

Matt barreled in through the door at more than 64 degrees of lean. “Cal!”

A slightly angry but concerned face appeared round the bedroom door. “You’re back.”

Matt nodded and almost sprinted down to him; Cal’s eyes widening as he got closer; Thor in the Avengers shouting HE’S NOT SLOWING DOWN! echoing through his head. Luckily, Matt did slow, and stop.

“Sorry.”

“Where were you?”

The presenter seemed stressed, excited, and befuddled. “Pascucci.”

Cal frowned at him. “What..?”

“Scott Redding, Pascucci and love!”

Cal put down his towel and stepped in front of the presenter so they were fully face to face. “Ok, now again in English.”

He saw Matt close his eyes and try and regain his composure. “Ok. What I’m trying to say is… I had some coffee with Scott Redding.” Matt took a breath. “And I love you.”

_Ah, of course you were._ Cal almost laughed but then the enormity of the last few words hit him. _Woah._

Matt stared at him.

And no response appeared.

*

Cal stared at him and gulped. _It’s been too long already; the silence is too long. Say something._ He watched as the excitement and fear in Matt’s eyes was slowly replaced by something else.

_SAY SOMETHING._

Still he stared.

_SAY ANYTHING._

*

Jorge groaned as he sat up. _Ow_. He flung the duvet back and got to his feet unsteadily, staring at the unfamiliarly rough-looking face eyeballing him from the mirror.

_Hangover. Why hangover._

His brain propelled itself through the night before.

_Wine._

He rotated his shoulders and frowned as he heard a crunch that sent a jolt of pain through his collarbone.

_Fuck._

He walked over to the mirror and put the light on, examining the tape that was still in place, noticing a scratch on his groin and staring at his own panic. Nakedly reflected, it was only making him panic more.

_This actually hurts._

_This really fucking hurts._

He patted down his floor-strewn jeans for his phone and dialed the doctor.

“Me duele la clavícula.”

Saying the words out loud increased the panic and he locked eyes with himself in the mirror, trying to focus, listening to the intended-to-be soothing words before starting to shake his head at himself, slightly irritated that Assen hadn’t taught them _if I say it hurts, it REALLY fucking hurts._

“No, no, no. De verdad. Me DUELE. No, no sé. Claro que no. No he hecho nada…”

His mind suddenly flashed back to around 2am.

_Oh God. I did do something._

His blood ran cold and he cursed his penis.

_Fuck fuck fuck._

*

Matt waited. And waited.

And then he realised it wasn’t coming.

He nodded and turned around, walking back to the door slowly and opening it, waiting just a second longer on the threshold.

Nothing.

He walked out and closed the door behind himself, desperately trying to remember why he’d thought that was a good idea. _Honesty is the best policy._ He shook his head angrily, gritting his teeth and trying desperately not to add moisture to his burning cheeks. 

_Obviously not._

*

Cal let out a whoosh of breath and leaned against the door frame for support.

_Fuck._

He stood there frozen for a few seconds before it all had chance to sink in.

_What have I just done?_

He suddenly felt a lump in his throat and grabbed an old glass of water from the side, before realizing it wasn’t water at all and spitting vodka fumes down the wall.

“BLEH!”

He rubbed his tongue with a towel and cursed the presenter for having left that there.

Which brought him straight back to the problem.

_Matthew._

He suddenly felt all the remnants of the night before. A twinge here and there, his lip was swollen. He gulped and sighed.

_Question is, was that fear? Or the truth? Do I love him? Does it even matter now? Does even asking these questions mean no?_

He’d been in this situation before and he remembered quite how horrific it was to say those words and be met with silence.

_And he’s just walked away with that on his shoulders._

He let out another breath and ran a hand over his hair.

_Is that why this hurts so much? Guilt? Because he’s hurt? Or because I missed an opportunity to tell the truth?_

His eyes uncharacteristically started to well up and he peered out the window to see if see could still see the TV presenter. 

Nope.

_Fuck._

*

Jorge realized that his pacing wasn’t helping, but he’d tried sitting still and after a few seconds had ended up staring at the ceiling, screaming. He’d like to think Chester Bennington, but after a minute he’d realized it was more cheerleader in a 1970s sexist horror movie and shut himself up.

_HOW could I be so fucking STUPID?! HOW could I care so much about getting over this injury that I rode THE DAY AFTER, and then FUCK EVERYTHING UP just because my GROIN took over from my MIND?!_

A small voice answered him with words he didn’t want to hear and he paused and glared at himself in the mirror. _No, just sex. Just sex._ He groaned as he again tried to move it and felt a variety of unnatural crunches and twinges echo through his chest and shoulder. His head pounded in time with it.

_AND HUNGOVER. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME._

He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out the sling he’d been wearing the week before.

_Looks like it’s back to you._

He pulled it on awkwardly, thinking through what to do next and casting his eyes around the room for clothes. _It was fine, it was fine… it was almost 2 weeks ago now, it was fine…Do I just walk in to the clinica mobile and brave it out? Because they’re going to examine it. And then they’re going to see…_

He shook his head to shake away the image and sat on the end of the bed again, picking up a t shirt and retrieving the same jeans from the day before. He glanced down at his arm in the sling and roared at the ceiling again as he realized he’d put it on before any actual clothing.

_NOW I HAVE TO FUCKING TAKE IT OFF AGAIN._

*

Cal couldn’t find Matt anywhere, and he wasn’t answering his phone.

_To be expected._

He thought he’d give himself until the press conference to try and sort himself out, before attempting to sort the situation out.

_A press conference in which we will both be present and therefore my eyes will be on the prize._

Cal flopped down from sitting on the edge of the bed to half lying on it and stared at the ceiling. _Ok, so step one is…_

_Figure out how you feel._

He chewed absent mindedly on his lip and replayed everything from the first awkward bet to the feeling he’d had in his stomach when he picked Matt up to go to the airport, the look in Lucy’s eyes when he’d said _I’m sorry, but.._ , the fact he hadn’t even questioned whether he should tell her, the feeling of happiness as he’d turned out the light and felt a hand find his in the dark…His face started to burn and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

_You’ve not mentioned anything physical._

_Admit it._

He nodded through the words slightly and tried to figure out why it made him so… _embarrassed? An unfortunate vestige of ironic homophobia? Fear? The testosterone fueled environment he lived in?_

He dragged himself onto his feet and jumped as his arse started to vibrate, before eagerly ripping the phone out of his pocket.

_Jorge._

He heart sank and he put the phone to his ear. “Buenos días.”

A very shortly-fused response shot back at him. “DON’T CONFUSE ME.”

Cal frowned at the tone and wandered out the bedroom towards the kitchen. “You ok…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line followed by a soft noise that was either a whimper of pain or an attempt to not publicly cry. Cal watched his eyes widen in his kettle-reflection. 

“What happened?”

The only response was a dull bang followed by a string of expletives, most of which Cal was impressed the Mallorcan knew, then a long and protracted ow.

“Hello?” Cal walked to the door and waited a few seconds for the other Yamaha rider to respond. Nothing. “Ok, I’m coming over.”


	5. Writhing Naked

Cal’s eyes swept from left to right and came to rest on the figure slouched on the sofa, no shirt, sling on. _What the fuck happened here?_

“Thanks for coming.” Jorge cleared his throat as the words came out creakily. “I’ve fucked up.”

Cal automatically sat down next to him and dumped his phone on the table. “I bet it’s not as bad as what I’ve just done.”

The Mallorcan stared at him sideways and frowned. “Oh?”

Cal nodded and let out a long breath. _Where to start?_ “I broke up with Lucy.”

Jorge’s face lit up with a mixture of sadness, glee and terror, eyes wide, followed by a flicker of pain as he shifted slightly on the seat. Cal frowned but ignored the other man’s problem for a minute longer and tried to find some sort of satisfactory explanation for whatever he was going to explain. _Everything?_ Cal glanced at his phone and saw it was blank. _Yeah. You could use a friend. And he could use a distraction, by the looks of it._

“Ok. With Matt…it’s...This morning…well, ok…last night, we…” Cal motioned vaguely with his hands and wondered why he found it so difficult to say out loud, “…for the first time. And this morning he said he…loved me…” Jorge’s eyes widened further, “and I didn’t reply…because, I don’t know...I didn’t reply because I was terrified. But now…well, ok, sorry…he walked off. And now he won’t answer my calls or anything, and he looked so upset…and well, I made a mistake. I should have just smiled and said ‘I love you too.’”

Jorge’s face, as a painting, would have fetched six figures. “What?!”

“Had it all, binned it.”

Jorge sniggered and shot him a sideways glance. “Typical.” His face became more serious again and he patted Cal’s leg with his free arm. “Sorry.”

Cal shrugged. “I…well, I don’t know what I’m doing. Track him down at the press conference I think. Put it right. Somehow.” He ran a hand over his stubble and sighed. “So…does that beat your story?”

Jorge looked like he was trying to weigh it up. “Not sure.” He slowly moved himself upright and Cal could see his teeth gritted. He stared at him and waited, knowing that it would all come out, eventually. 

“So last night…me and Azi…”

Cal realized it was his turn to sit in shocked silence.

Jorge nodded at him and shrugged slightly, again taking in a sharp breath as he did. “It was…” He started to go red, “…a bit crazy. Good, but crazy. But I had wine. I don’t know why I drank so close to a race. And I don’t know why I would drink enough to…to cause problems.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “You have a hangover.”

Jorge shook his head at Cal’s tone. “I have more than a hangover. I think…” He took a deep breath. “I think I might have broken…the collarbone. Again. Or done something…” He watched Cal wince on his behalf and nodded in response, eyes betraying his panic. “It really hurts…I don’t know what to do.”

“What did you do?”

Cal registered the change from slightly tanned white to full beetroot as the Mallorcan face suddenly went crimson.

“Ok, ok, please God don’t tell me.”

Jorge hooked a finger under the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down slightly, filling Cal’s face with fear and then fascination as he saw the scratches. “Also, this.” He pulled the sling back slightly and showed the Brit his forearm bitemark. “I don’t even know. I’m not…usually…” He motioned at himself and looked at Cal with a strange mixture of pride, shame, and complete terror. “I mean…I don’t…do…this…” There was a pause and he coughed. “Much.”

Cal decided to breeze past that. “So what did you do about it so far?”

Jorge pointed at his phone. “Called the doctor. They said don’t panic, it’s probably just sore, go to the Clinica Mobile…Nothing really. I couldn’t explain…”

Cal nodded and looked at him pointedly. “Well you have to decide, don’t you? Go and ask them, or leave it. You really think it’s broken again?” _What the fuck were you doing?!_ “Could it not just be sore?”

Jorge shrugged and again the short-fused flash of frustration lit up his eyes as the pain went from abstract to real. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think…I think something’s broken, or moved, or… I don’t know. It’s… crunchy.”

Cal’s distaste was immediately evident. “Urgh.”

“Exactly.”

*

 _First things first,_ the Honda rider thought, _he looks like he’s in a lot more pain than me._ He nodded at the other Spaniard as he sat down and winced. _Definitely. Why?_

Dani examined his future husband’s demeanor and tried to guess what he might have done. He’d seen him the night before looking irritatingly healthy having dinner with some people from the BBC. So it was an after dark injury. He blushed to himself and looked down as his phone vibrated on his leg.

_I hate press conferences._

He replied to the message and looked up as he realized that his half-hidden hand motions weren’t very family friendly. 

_I hate press conferences._

He looked over as his team mate walked into the room, and wondered not for the first time how he managed to get such a lustrous shine without, Dani could tell, using any styling products. _Bastard._

_I hate press conferences._

He twiddled his thumbs and looked down at his phone again before something caught his eye. _WHAT IS THAT?!_ He looked at Jorge’s face and was met with an expression that was half pleading with him for silence, and half wickedly communicating the backstory.

Dani felt his eyes widen and they stared at each other as more people streamed into the room. 

_Oh good Lord. That is a bite mark. That is a sex injury. Writhing naked, Jorge likes being bitten._

_Writhing naked…_

Dani coughed and realized he was now a deeper shade of red than the Yamaha rider.

_Writhing naked…_

Jorge’s mouth suddenly set itself into a little ‘o’ shape, eyes widening to full circles, right hand being used as a physical shield over his eyes, protecting against whatever it was that he didn’t want to see.

Dani looked down at his lap and panicked, scrambling desperately to grab his jacket to cover the second public erection he'd suffered in less than 36 hours.

_STOP THINKING ABOUT IT._

He turned away slightly and refused to look back at the Mallorcan’s face.

_Writhing naked…_

He looked up at the ceiling at counted to 10.

_Ok. Now, deep breaths._

He faced forwards again and tried to put on his ‘professionally bored’ face.

_But… writhing naked…_

*

Matt wasn’t there. Cal was vaguely aware of some sort of altercation down the other end of the line between Dani and Jorge, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from scanning the room.

_No. Not here._

He sighed and jumped as he felt a hand hit him on the shoulder and a hello echo down from Valentino, who took his seat next to the Brit. “You ok?”

 _Oh, Jesus._ Cal looked up at him and shrugged despondently. _If he’s noticed I’m not that happy, everyone will._ He met the Italian’s gaze and shrugged. “Mm.”

“So that’s no?”

Cal found himself surprised by the amount of concern in the older man’s eyes, and shrugged again. “Just…no. Not really.”

The Italian frowned and looked round the room. “Is problem with Matt?”

Cal felt himself staring back at scarily comprehending eyes. “It’s obvious?”

Vale nodded and winked. “Was obvious when you kiss.”

“Fuck.”

Valentino winked again. “Maybe…?”

Cal felt himself blush and wagged a finger at the Italian. “I got enough of this from Jorge. It’s not funny.”

Valentino slapped him on the shoulder again and turned the face the room, which had filled up considerably, and smiled as he talked out the corner of his mouth. “It will be ok. Whatever you did, is ok.”

Cal frowned and stared at his phone, which chose that moment to light up, and belatedly harrumphed at the offense. _How do you know I caused this?!_ His heart sank slightly, then started to pound as he read the message fully.

_Azi: Not sure what happened but Matt just told us he can’t cover this race and he’s going home. He said you would know what was going on? What happened??_

_No, no, no, no._ Cal instinctively felt himself get to his feet to leave, and turned the phone round so Valentino could answer his own question. The Italian gestured at the door and nodded. “I will explain.”

Cal smiled his thanks then frowned and paused at the door. “Not too much, though, ok?”

Valentino shrugged cheekily and then let a more serious expression take over as he shook his head. “Not too much.”

*

Matt paused as he clicked the button to unlock the hire car. It was in his name, but he did feel slightly strange about just taking it without asking Cal. It was meant to be shared.

_Whipped, Matthew. So whipped. Just drive away._

He groaned as he heard the one voice he had been trying to avoid suddenly start yelling at him. He contemplated just ignoring it, but didn’t really want to end up in a situation whereby he was responsible for running over the Tech3 rider. He turned round and tried to look bored with the turn of events. “What do you want?”

Cal seemed surprised he’d turned round and answered, and stopped dead in front of him, staring wide-eyed. Matt re-iterated the question with his hands. “W-what are you doing?”

Matt took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “I’m going home.”

“Why?”

“Why the fuck do you think?”

Cal stood there and seemed to attempt starting 3 different sentences at once. “B…Just..No.”

“No what? You had the chance to say something, and you didn’t. I’m going home because I can’t deal with this-“ He motioned at Cal, “-and do my job. Not when everything I do gets broadcast. Maybe it’ll be better next time, but I just can’t, today. Ok?”

Cal stepped closer and Matt instinctively looked around to see if anyone was watching, or worse, filming. They were. He lowered his voice and held up his hands. “Don’t do this in public.”

Cal shrugged and took another step forward. “I don’t care.”

“You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

Cal let out a little whoosh of air and shook his head. “NO. No I did not. You ran in, you said something…fucking insane, then you left. At no point did I say ‘I don’t care.’ I’m stood here right now, aren’t I?”

“Bit late though, isn’t it?”

Cal shook his head and took another small step forward. “No. No, it’s not. You know that I care. I know that you know that. But I’m… I’m a motorbike racer from Coventry. I don’t dive dick first into serious gay relationships. In fact, I don’t dive anything first into gay relationships. I don’t wear glamourous trousers-“ _was that the hint of a smile?_ “-but I’m here, and that fucking means something. I just walked out of a press conference and I hope to God Valentino hasn’t blabbed the whole truth about it, but well.. maybe I wouldn’t care. Maybe what I need is for everyone to know. Maybe then I can say what I actually feel about this without feeling so…threatened.”

Matt stood completely still and waited to see if the rant was over. It wasn’t.

“So, maybe you should be less of a drama queen about this – I know how this feels by the way and it’s completely shit – but maybe if someone doesn’t reply, it doesn’t mean no…maybe…” Cal shrugged as the wind left his sails and his voice lowered. “Maybe sometimes if you trust that person you should realize that...it just means that I’m fucking terrified.”

Matt felt a lump in his throat and wished they weren’t in public, maybe even being filmed, and wished that he was able to completely trust the words being fired at him. _What the hell do I reply to that?_ He let the silence hang between them for a few seconds before responding in the only way he knew how.

“…ok?”

Cal’s eyes flared with anger and he shifted back slightly, aggression rising back to the surface. “Ok? Fucking ok?” 

Matt felt himself desperately wanting to grab him and explain what that meant, but stayed stuck in place. _Did you mean that about not caring who knows? Or would that push you over the edge?_ He looked helplessly at the Tech 3 rider and tried to communicate with his eyes _ok means ok, it means, really, ok. It means stop standing so close to me, stop looking at me like that or you’ll be the first openly gay MotoGP rider ever._ He held up the car keys for Cal to take, which he did, slowly understanding the gesture and the response and finding the first vestiges of a smile appearing on his face. Matt nodded at him and started to smile back. 

“Yes. Ok. I’ll stay. Go to the press conference. I’ll talk to you later. In private. Ok?”

Something in his tone managed to convey exactly what he meant, and Cal pocketed the keys slowly, nodding in return.

“Ok...”

He started walking backwards and felt his smile widen into a grin, mirrored on the presenter’s face. He made it a few more paces back and started nodding more. “OK!”

Matt looked around as the rider yelled, conscious of the amount of people, but equally completely head over heels about how strangely exciting it was for nobody else to have a clue about what was going on.

“OK! Fucking OK!”

Cal shrugged happily as he made it back to the corner where he would disappear from view, not caring about the multitude of strange glances he was receiving, and blew a quick kiss back over his shoulder. 

_Ok._

_But obviously what I mean is probably a bit stronger._

_But ok works, for now._

Cal yelled it once more, hoping he was still in earshot, and paused outside the door where he knew a lot of questions were waiting for him.

_Ok. Let's do this._


	6. Hard But Good

Jorge sat down on the end of his bed and pulled his arm out of the sling. It wasn’t fully broken again, but apparently he’d managed to hairline fracture the part that was healing. He could ride, and didn’t need more surgery, but it would hurt. So said Dr Costa. Jorge had never before said ‘DON’T ASK’ to anyone, and he’d certainly never frightened a grown man with his insistence on it. _But there’s a first time for everything._

He flexed his arm and tested out how bad it was. _Could be worse. Funny how things seem achievable when you’ve stopped panicking._ He leaned back and melted into the bed for a few minutes as he thought about the past few days. _Let’s not do this again. Ever._ He sat up and stared at himself in the mirror, trying to unravel everything.

_Ultimately, I know she’s not ‘la única’ o lo que sea. She’s not that, but she got just close enough for me to try and convince myself for a few hours._ He coughed and stood up. _And that’s the scariest bit._

He walked through to the kitchen and started making coffee, frustrated at how much slower everything was with one arm.

_Because if someone appears who’s 85%, or even 90% of what I think I’m looking for, it’s going to be painful._

He shrugged to himself and again glowered at the shot of pain through his arm. 

_Like Assen on steroids, with a side order of Shanghai 2008._

He picked up his mug and trudged back into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed.

_So, rest._

_And maybe some self-pity._

He opened his laptop and started reading through emails, distractedly aware of how loud his sipping sounded in the empty motorhome. He opened iTunes and pressed shuffle on the playlist that he would never let anyone see, then went back to the emails. Lots of requests. 

_Everyone wants a part of me. No one wants the whole thing._

He rolled his eyes at his new level of pathetic and snuggled down slightly.

_Oh God. It’s bad._

His phone beeped and he peered over the keyboard to see it, scrolling down lazily with his Phillip-Island-damaged finger.

_Hello, George. We heard you’ll be ok, so that’s good. Anyway, we would like to thank you for your role in creating such a modern power couple, and would like to ask you if you would like these honours mentioned when we go public. Sincerely, Calvin and Matthew._

Jorge read through it a few times to grasp the English, then felt a warm glow start to radiate through the self-pity. 

_Awww._

Then the jealousy hit.

_Mostly awww. Slightly ‘get fucked’._

He put the computer down and hauled himself over to the bathroom to go to the toilet.

_See, sometimes casual can become serious. Maybe the answer is more casual sex, more often…so it seems more casual._

He glanced down at the toilet as he undid his fly and saw Dani’s grinning face floating back at him. He giggled to himself and emitted a soft ‘ow’ as the vibration went through his torso.

_Maybe I should call Dani. Try it out. He seemed pretty interested._

_Or maybe not._

He bent down awkwardly and retrieved the floating Pedrosa, dropping him unceremoniously in the bottom of the shower.

_See? Progress. Few years ago I would have pissed on that and enjoyed it._

He nodded at himself and flushed. 

_Progress._

*

_Did I gamble right by leaving?_

Azi waited nervously for the Yamaha rider to respond as she stared down into her cup of tea. _What would be worse? Yes, no, or no answer?_

Her phone beeped and she stared at the screen.

_Nobody likes waking up alone._

Her breath caught in her throat and she clenched her fists slightly before it beeped again. 

_But probably. It wouldn’t work, would it?_

She let out a breath and chewed on her lip as she pondered that question. _Is it rhetorical, or should I answer? Typical. Forcing the other person into showing their hand._

_Probably not. Are you ok?_

_Yeah not bad. The collarbone hurts. You?_

_Yeah, and sorry._

_Wasn’t your fault. I made the decision._

_But…_

_No room for excuses when you’re world champion ;) I’ll see you in the pit lane tomorrow._

_:) You will. Please be careful._

_Always :) oh and watch Cal tomorrow… should be fun. ;)_

_What??_

Azi smiled. Ok so the bridge is not burnt, just a bit unstable. _Unstable I can live with_. Her phone pinged again and she rolled her eyes.

_Not saying anything more! Jaja ;) And I’m never going to stop flirting with you…_

She wondered if she should jump back into the same cauldron of dangerousness and eventually just decided that it was too far gone already. 

_Everyone needs a reason to come to work ;)_

She knew he wouldn’t reply to that, and knew that this was the point at which really it had to stop, before it got to asking any more questions. She smiled, slightly sadly, and pushed her phone back into her pocket.

_And he knows that, too._

*

“You’re sure?”

Cal nodded as Matt leant forward and brushed some toast crumbs off his chest. “I’msuibewfub.”

The presenter raised an eyebrow and Cal shrugged, then swallowed. “I’m sure.”

“Yeah, I know what you were saying.”

“Yeah, I know. But I know you’re getting all anal about talking with my mouth full so..” Cal stuck out his tongue and widened his eyes as they stared at each other nervously.

_Going public. Going public. This is big._

“So…how nervous are you on a scale of 1 to 10?”

The presenter thought it over quickly and managed to smile a mixture of excitement and terror. “14.”

Cal laughed and quickly pecked him on the cheek. “Ok then. No worries. Let’s do this.”

*

The grid was full, and the time was approaching. Cal could see the shock of silver hair working its way towards him, having noticed how red the presenter’s face had gone whilst talking to Jorge just ahead of him to the right. _Surely he didn’t give away anything yet?_ He guessed not since Matt made eye contact with him and held it a couple of seconds as he moved past Valentino. Vale looked to his left and winked at Cal as the presenter passed him.

_It can't be that crazy. 2 of the biggest stars in this sport have actively been enjoying this._

_And they weren’t surprised._

Cal thought it over and went through the list of people who knew. Jorge knew, obviously. Part of Cal wondered if this had not been a bet at all, but some sort of masterplan. Herve now knew, Azi knew because Jorge had told her, Vale knew because he seemed to just know, Marc probably knew, since he’d seen the kiss. _He’s a bit green though. Probably didn’t read that much into it._ Dani didn’t know. But given what Cal had been told about the press conference erection incident, he probably wouldn’t give a shit.

Matt was suddenly stood right in front of him. Cal snapped out of his thoughts and stared at him, then got off the bike slowly and motioned at the people around him to give him some space, allowing Matt in beside him.

“So, Cal…feeling good? 4th on the grid, Valentino beside you, only two tenths off Dani’s pole lap?”

Cal smiled in response and nodded. “Yeah feeling pretty good. Should be a good race. We’ve got good pace here, so might be able to bridge the gap to the front.”

Matt smiled at his response and they could both see the stupidly excited but terrified expression they shared.

“Anything else you want to say?”

Cal swallowed hard, then nodded and turned to look in the camera.

“Just want to say; thanks for all your support here this weekend and at home. I really appreciate it and I’ll try to do my best today.” He snaked his arm round Matt’s waist and pulled him in closer, causing a flicker of puzzlement to light up the cameraman’s face. “And I don’t know if this will be a surprise or not, but I wanted to announce before the race that I’m gay.”

The camera wobbled in shock as Cal planted a kiss on Matt’s cheek.

“With him.”

He let go of the presenter as the camera started to move away, orders coming through the earpiece of the cameraman to _stop whatever is happening!_ Matt tried hard not to blush, or break down, or laugh, or cry, but he managed to nod, before pulling the rider in for a quick, genuine kiss.

Cal got back on his bike as the BBC team moved away, murmuring, gasping and whispering starting already. He stared straight ahead and flipped his visor down.

_At least I can get some peace like this._

He wondered how crazy it would be for his other half, left to deal with the aftermath during a live broadcast.

_Hard, but good._

Cal sniggered to himself; _exactly how he likes it_. He looked up to see Jorge craning his neck around from second, seeming to know Cal was looking back at him, despite his eyes being lost behind the visor. The Spaniard motioned questioningly at him and Cal gave him a thumbs up in return. The Mallorcan clapped his hands together a few times and then replied in kind, as mechanics and team personnel started moving off the grid. 

_Here we go._


End file.
